


Brevity is the Soul of Wit

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi writes Eren a note to read for their next expedition, but forgets to give it to him until they're back out on the battle field.<br/>It's a little too late for the message to get across, but Levi reads it to him all the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brevity is the Soul of Wit

**Author's Note:**

> This was from a prompt that I received on my Levi RP blog. It was: "My Muse is dead, but they left yours a letter! Send a ✖ to see what it says."  
> I wanted to post it on here because I'm kinda proud of how it turned out.  
> Tell me what you think!

They had failed.

That was apparent from the start.

No— No, that’s wrong—  _He_  had failed. This was on  _him,_  and him alone.

If he had just  _gone_  with his  _gut_  and gave clear orders—  Or if he hadn’t been a second too slow with finishing breakfast this morning or putting his straps on or—  He would have  _seen_ that titan and  _done_  something about it. He wouldn’t have had to watch from the highest branch of a treeline as his comrades all screamed in dismay, thrashing around furiously until their necks were snapped or broken off with a pair of crimson-stained teeth; wouldn't have had to watch as ten more came from the treeline and smashed down bodies like they were cats catching birds.

He wouldn’t have had to pick up pairs of bloodied wings, wondering for the tenth time,  _"Who was this?"_  or even worse:  _"Good to see you again. Maybe I can meet you soon."_

_;wouldn’t have to walk past corpses and immediately remember the time they had just spent at dinner in the mess hall, or wasted his time yelling at them when he could have just smiled back and ask how their shitty day was._

This day, along with so many others that he has had to bear through, was an unforgiving one.

This day, he would remember.

_Everyone_  would remember. That’s the  **least**  they could do; remember the fallen; mourn over them like they should  _mourn over their own._

Each time he passed a new cloak or a new severed hand or leg, the more he started to notice who it was. Or pretended who it was so he wouldn’t have to worry about them being in anymore pain.

_"Don’t worry, Armin: I’ve got your wings now."_

_"It’s okay, Hange. It was over instantly. For you too, Mikasa."_

_"Oh, hey, Erwin. I see you’re with Mike again."_

With each face came a fresh wave of memories, hitting him constantly and daring to drag him under as he slammed repeatedly against the rocks.

_"Wasn’t it just the other day that you told me that this expedition was going to go great, Hange? How about you, Armin? This plan…. You said it was flawless. This is how it’s always been, though, hasn’t it? I trusted in you, and then you die on me— Died **because**  of me.”_

Levi barked out a laugh to himself as he carried all of those pairs of broken and crippled wings, feet stumbling madly across the ground. He didn’t make it very far before his legs gave out from under him, and he was sent crashing to the ground like the rest of his troops, their wings fluttering in the air for a split second before they, too, came back down for a final time.

He heard someone choking on their voice, and it took him a second to realise that it was himself.

"Eren," he was spitting out, voice unstable as the world around him started to unfold before him. "Eren…. Is that you, Eren?"

Levi started shaking as he reached forward, not thinking before he touched the corpse in front of him and turned it over.

The younger boy’s face peeled off of the grass, pale skin peeking through a veil of red. His hazed-over eyes didn’t stare at Levi as much as they stared  _through_  him, seeing nothing. He knew he wasn’t imaging this one. This one was real—  **Eren**  was real, just like he had always been.

But Levi, not quite understanding the complexity of the situation, started to lightly shake the boy’s shoulders.

"Oi," He called. " _O_ - _Oi_! Come on, you brat.  _Wake up_.. Come on.  **Get up**.  **Get up— WE’RE GOING TO BE KILLED IF WE STAY OUT HERE—”**

Levi didn’t notice that everything below Eren’s stomach had been bitten off sometime during the expedition; didn’t notice the blood that seeped through his layers of clothes, traveling all the way up towards his chest where gashes longer than Levi’s forearm lie; didn’t notice the missing gear or the way Eren’s chest was no longer moving in tune to the shallow inhales of his breathing. All Levi saw now was a boy that wasn’t listening to him.

Realization dawned perhaps the first thirty minutes that Levi sat next to Eren. It didn’t hit him so much like a wave, as it did like the gradual rise of a crescendo.

"You’re humanity’s hope," He said suddenly, voice quivering. "You can’t die…" He barked out a laugh that was completely void of humor. "I remember writing you something before our last expedition. I didn’t expect to make it back, honestly. I didn’t  _want_  to get back, as shitty as it sounds.” Levi shook his head as he brought up a hand to go through his jacket pocket, pulling out a crumbled piece of parchment, black ink scrawled all over it. “I was going to give it to you before we left. Just in case we never saw each other again. But I guess I never did get the chance to do that, huh?”

Levi unfolded the paper and smoothed it out on his leg. He cleared his throat and started to read, despite the weakness that wavered in his tone.

> _Eren,_
> 
> _I told you to look at this while there’s no one around._
> 
> _Or to look at it if you’re certain there’s trouble coming and you can’t prevent it._
> 
> _Or even if there’s a **slight**  disturbance in the air, or you feel that there’s a fraction of a chance of being something wrong, I want you to look at this. Look at it, and read it over and over again until you feel that it’s true. I don’t care how many times it takes._
> 
> _I just want to be able to get this wired into your head one last time. One last, final time._
> 
> _-_
> 
> _I’m sorry._
> 
> _I can’t say that enough._
> 
> _I’m so **fucking**  sorry for doing this to you— dragging you into this like some sort of animal._
> 
> _I wish I could take it back. Or rather, make sure you lived a normal life. Without having to fear who’s cloak you’ll see hanging up in my office tomorrow._
> 
> _I wish you didn’t have to think like a soldier— think like you can’t be happy without having to sacrifice something first._
> 
> _This world is shit and forgiveness is borderline of **laughable**._
> 
> _And I’m so sorry for that. So **fucking**  sorry._
> 
> _I wish you felt like you didn’t owe the world something, or owed yourself something. You’re selfish, Eren, but in **all**  the wrong ways. Putting yourself before others is going to get you killed one day._
> 
> _Because there’s no karma is this world, Eren. Trust me, I’ve saved enough people to know that the world isn’t going to be as forgiving back. I’ve **killed**  enough people to know that that isn’t going to change my outcome in the end. Nothing matters in a hell such as this. Saving people from being slaughtered, or doing the slaughtering yourself isn’t worth  **shit**  anymore._
> 
> _There’s no predicable outcome except dying out on these fields; That’s the only thing I’m certain of, and the only thing I will **ever**  be certain of._
> 
> _Just remember that next time you want to be brave. Being brave gets good people killed. Being cocky gets people killed. Try putting yourself first next time, you brat._
> 
> _I just…._
> 
> **_I’m so fucking sorry._ **
> 
> _-Levi_

With trembling digits, the older man reached over and opened Eren’s palm, stuffing the crumbled note into the boy’s hand and closing his fingers around the letter for him. 

"I’m not sure what to tell you, Eren," Levi admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I never am."

He stayed like that for quite some time, holding Eren’s hand with the note inside, just counting as the minutes went by.

Ten minutes turned into twenty. And twenty to thirty. And thirty to the sound of distant stomping and screams as others fell and joined all of the others— joined the pile of crippled wings.

And when those heavy footsteps starting getting closer, Levi closed his eyes and held Eren. A hand reached out for him, and Levi whispered, “Thank you.”
    
    
      
    


End file.
